Manila Envelope

{This is in response to What Pegman Saw. The photo this week is from Romania: Bran Castle, where Count Dracula is rumored to have lived.

Although my story does deal with the demons of the past, its relationship with Romania has more to do with its identity as an Eastern European country. Since this week was full of news about packages, my story also involves a package, delivered circa 1990.

For the history behind it, see this Wikipedia article and skip to “Fall of the Berlin Wall.” Many photos are there, as well, from various stages of the wall being built, in 1961, to its being hammered away at, by civilian “wall woodpeckers,” to its dismantling, to the commemorative sections still left standing.

Enjoy reading and thank you for the prompt! Thank you, also, to Penny, for helping me to flesh out a rather emaciated first draft. Hope it’s better now!}

Helena blinked at the postmark. Berlin. The handwriting seemed familiar.

Study abroad, ten years ago.

Why shouldn’t Dieter contact her, out of the blue? Every other aspect of life, recently, surprised her.

Days before, The Wall had come down.

The Iron Curtain, separating West from East, Americanism from Communism. Kaput. And down with it, came the Cold War world.

Though they had met on West German soil, Dieter was from the East. He, and many other students, had left their beloved Poland, Romania, or East Germany behind, paying no small price for the privilege.

After being given the perk of coming West for a conference, Dieter defected. His parents stayed behind.

Less fortunate students, squeezed into semis, risked capture, even death.

Escaping, back then, seemed heroic.

Helena dug deep into the envelope. Wedged in a corner, she found a polyhedron of colored plaster.

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I’m afraid I didn’t follow this. I think the piece of coloured plaster is referring to something with which I’m not familiar. I presume that Helena had betrayed her friends hence her worries that the Stasi files were now open to the public.

I didn’t see the original, Andrea, so I’m just thinking that this is a memento of the fallen wall from an old friend. I like your hints at what the world was like before the fall, what people risked just to get an education. Nicely done

Thank you Lynn, that’s what I was driving at. Specifically the Berlin wall, when it fell in 1989-90. The wall was covered with colorful graffiti and after it came down, little pieces of it ended up all around the world.

East Germans were first officially allowed to exit through the Berlin wall on November 9, 1989 and Germany was reunified on October 3, 1990, which is now the national holiday German Unity Day. Some wanted originally to use November 9 for the holiday, but some less savory items of German history, such as Kristallnacht, are associated with that date.

I’ll put a link to a wikipedia article in the preface for those to whom this history is not as familiar. To me, it is visceral.

Just wanted to let you know I enjoyed your spooky story and the way you captured the cold and creakinessbof the old house. I cant see any words whe I tfied to type my comment in the comment field, for some reason.

That whole google street view is creepy, roommafter room of torture implements. But those doors with their Deco windows made me curious too.

Thanks so much Andrea, glad you liked the story. Sorry you had problems with commenting – some people have found this and I’ve never worked out what causes it or what I can do to cure it (not very techy I’m afraid).
And yes, a very creepy set of rooms. I was drawn to some of the things in cases, trying to work out what they were, then immediately shied away. People are too horrifying to each other for words, aren’t they? Thanks again for reading

I love where you took this, Andrea. The writing is lovely, and there’s so much in the way of history and motivation, it feels like it could be a much longer work. Love it thematically too. And since you seem to have much connection to the theme, are you/would you write something longer?

Such an iconic moment in history, and you capture it well with these personal narratives. I might be biased, though, as I also received an envelope with a chunk of colored plaster from my own friends in Berlin that week, which was even more powerful, having just been there to visit the wall and spend time with people trapped in East Berlin a few months before.